


What You Give Me

by bideru



Series: Stormwind Secret Archives [5]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M, alluded to Tiffin Wrynn, alluded to wranduin but neither of them are actually in this, almost porn without plot, and then my brain said ANGST ANGST ANGST, literally i just wanted to write soft Valeera/Varian, shaw got smacked in the face with so many things that day, there is no plot tho, vanshaw if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:40:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bideru/pseuds/bideru
Summary: Varian and Valeera spend the night together, before she leaves for her mission in Dalaran and he for the Broken Shore.
Relationships: Valeera Sanguinar/Varian Wrynn
Series: Stormwind Secret Archives [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984304
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	What You Give Me

**Author's Note:**

> _I should've know better  
>  I shouldn't have wasted those days  
> And afternoons and mornings  
> I threw them all away_  
> 
> 
> ~Time, by Chantal Kreviazuk

The door pushed open with the barest of whispers, followed by the soft, careful footfalls of a man trying to be much smaller than he actually was. He shut the door with a quiet _snick,_ wincing at the sound. No lamps were lit in the little solar, and even the fireplace was dim, but the cool glow of magelight led him to the bedchamber, where the smooth silver stones glowed in their holders, their harsh glare softened by the oranges and reds of the fire roaring in the hearth. A pack he had seen many times lay open in the middle of the floor, surrounded by folded shirts and socks, sturdy glass vials of different colored liquids, and a little notebook and gnomish ink pen. Atop the pack lay a small pile of knives of all sizes, and standing out amongst them all was an old dagger, its double-edged blade gleaming from a fresh sharpening and rub down with a soft, smooth cloth. Carved into the pommel was an orcish design he’d memorized many years before. 

With her back to him was Valeera, though Varian knew she’d heard him. Had seen the flick of her ears in his direction, the stiffness leave her frame as she realized it was him. She was pulling a red silk ribbon from her hair, winding it around her slim fingers as she shook the tresses free from their confinement. Gently laid the ribbon on the vanity. He’d given her that ribbon several years ago, and it made him smile to see it. 

Still she paid him no mind as she readied herself for bed, slipping the mageweave tunic over her head. The delicate embroidery caught the light as it fell to the floor, the gold winking at him briefly before falling into the shadow of her body. His eyes roamed the planes of newly exposed, creamy skin, the little puckered scars down one side from a troll's broken tusks, the faded silver line in her shoulder, an old stab wound she'd had as long as he'd known her. She shimmied out of her snug trousers, the fabric clinging attractively to the curve of her ass, sliding easily down smooth, milky thighs to puddle around her feet. She wasn’t surprised to feel his hands on her, when he ran his hands along her sides, following the line of her smallclothes to rest at the vee of her hips. She leaned back into his chest as he dipped his fingers beneath, just a little, just a tease, air hissing through her teeth as she inhaled. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he murmured against her cheek. “Dinner ran long.” Anduin had stayed for quite a while, and while Varian didn’t begrudge his son the time, he’d hardly been able to stop himself from bolting out the door behind him and arousing the boy's suspicions. 

“I almost locked you out.” Valeera’s breath caught as his fingers dipped beneath the line of her panties again, and he chuckled low in his throat.

“You shouldn’t deny entrance to the king.” He pressed his lips to the naked skin of her shoulder, kissed along her clavicle, slow and purposeful, as if she wasn’t leaving in the morning. As if they had all the time in the world. Mouthed at her neck, sucking lightly at her pulse. 

“I’ll bar whoever I like from my rooms,” she panted, and when he reached that spot behind her ear, she keened. 

Varian smiled into her skin, inhaling the sweet, clean scent of her hair. Floral, and something crisp he couldn’t quite name. Light, it felt like an age since he’d last held her like this. 

She whimpered as he removed his hands from her smallclothes, arched into them as he ran them upward, tracing along her abdomen. Arms stretched over her head, reached behind and cupped the back of his own, and when she kissed him, gentle and sweet, a low heat arose in his belly and radiated straight to his groin. 

Valeera tangled her hands in his thick brown hair, eyes fluttering closed. “Stay with me,” she murmured into his lips. “All night.” 

He didn’t think he’d ever have the vocabulary to explain to her what those three words ﹣ _stay with me_ ﹣ did to him. What they meant. He'd never thought, after Tiffin, he would ever be able to feel like this again. 

“All night,” he promised, nibbling along her jaw. His tongue darted out, teasing, lapping once more at her pulse. “I won’t leave before you.” _I won’t leave you ever._

At his words she melted. Turning in his arms and pressing herself to him, Varian felt the exact moment she gave in, let everything ﹣ the new assignment, the Burning Legion, the Keep and all its occupants ﹣ go. As she tugged his shirt off, let her small, slender hands caress over his chest and the muscles in his arms, the entire world fell away. There was nothing else for her but Varian, and nothing for him but Valeera. 

He touched her softly. Luxuriously. He wanted to sear into his memory the taste of her and how she felt against him. The flutter of her sides as he trailed his blunted nails down them, tickling. The flush of her chest, and the way his hands felt in her hair. The way her legs fell open for him, and how they felt wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, closer, closer. 

He shuddered inside her, those three words almost inaudible. “Stay with me,” he said again, just a little louder, so she could hear him, as he sank against her. He laid his head on her chest, the pounding of her heart loud in his ears. Closed his eyes as he felt Valeera’s hands in his hair, scritching gently at his scalp. 

She squeezed around him and laughed, a breathy little noise that sent pleasurable shivers up his spine. Tucked a lock of damp hair behind his ear. 

“I’m coming back, you know,” she told him, the smile in her voice bringing his own to light. “I’ll always come back.”

“I know.” Varian mouthed at a spot on her chest, the swell of her breast bruising readily with faint pressure. Shifted his weight to his forearms so he could kiss her properly, languid and and tender. Her eyes ﹣ a shade of green for which he had no name, the most beautiful color he’d ever seen ﹣ met his, sharp against the faint pink of her cheeks. 

_I love you. By the Light, I love you,_ he thought, pressing his forehead to hers. Maybe she would understand, if they lay like this long enough, if he thought it hard enough. He squeezed his eyes shut, heart thundering in his chest. “Val, I…”

The words felt foreign on his tongue and he faltered. He hadn’t said them in so long, could hardly say them to his own son. _I love you. I swear I do._ He dropped his head to her shoulder, ashamed.

Valeera’s hands were on him, cupping his face and drawing him close again. “Hey,” she soothed. “Stay with me. Don’t get lost in your head.” 

She’d always been able to read him, always been able to catch the melancholy before it took hold, before it overcame him. 

He leaned into her touch. Pressed a kiss to her thumb as it stroked his cheek from chin to ear. “I’m here,” he assured her. “I’m here with you.”

She was rubbing circles into his skin, her nail scraping gently along the stubble, and his eyes shut as he focused on them. She’d always done this, this soft, purposeful motion, and he found it grounding. Something to hold onto when her being here wasn’t enough. She’d started it when he was Lo’Gosh, all those nights in the Crimson Ring, and never stopped. He never wanted her to. 

Varian groped behind them for the sheets, seizing a corner and pulling. The bed covers fluttered around them, like something out of one of Anduin’s books, and he chuckled. 

“What’s so funny?” Valeera asked, pulling him to her once more. He let the sheets fall wherever, careless and unconcerned; wrapped his arms around her. Nuzzled into her neck.

“Nothing,” he murmured. “Just you.”

“Me?” She’d moved her circles to his back, kneading gently along his spine. 

“You.”

He felt her nestle into his hair. The soft sensation of her lips, and the quietest, deliberate kiss. “You’re ridiculous,” she murmured affectionately, the sound muffled. “Go to sleep.”

Varian closed his eyes. He’d laid in these arms for nine years. Kissed these lips for nine years. It had terrified him back then, how quickly he’d succumbed to Valeera. When he regained his memories ﹣ regained Tiffin ﹣ he’d felt guilty, almost ashamed at how easy it had been, to move on. Tiffin had been dead for eight years when he’d met Valeera, and while he would never forget her, he knew she wouldn’t hold this against him. More than anything else, his wife had always wanted him to be happy. Something in him died with Tiffin, and Valeera had brought him back to life. 

After some time her movements became lazier and less coordinated. Finally stopped, palm falling still against his skin. Her breathing slowed, calm and even. When Varian raised his head she was asleep. 

_I love you._ Carefully, so as not to wake her, he shifted. Stretched out on his side, and curled around her. _I’ll tell you someday._ Brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen into her eyes. _I love you._ For nine more years ﹣ for the rest of his life, all he wanted was her. 

“Stay with me, Val,” he whispered. _Stay with me until my dying day._

  
  
  


He woke to the soft light of dawn streaming through the window, the rising sun painting the room in pink and gold. Valeera was snuggled in his arms, hair splayed on the pillow like a glorious sun-touched blanket. He pulled her into his lap, legs tucked under her plush bottom, thighs aligned. She made a quiet, sleepy noise, one hand finding his, her palm sliding along his own and threading their fingers together. 

“Anu belore bal’a dash,” he murmured against the line of her ear. He’d never picked up Thalassian, but he’d heard that one often enough, from Valeera over countless mornings spent together. It meant _The sun greets you._

“Ana.” 

“What?”

“Ana belore bal’a dash.” She stretched, the cleft of her ass rubbing against his need. It was delicious, and he groaned. “Your Thalassian is still terrible.”

Varian’s lips quirked. “You understood me.”

That wasn't acknowledged, and he didn't expect it to be. “Good morning.” She turned her head, eyes still closed, and he obliged, leaning in close and brushing their lips together. 

“Good morning,” he echoed, bringing their entwined hands above the sheets to kiss each one of her knuckles. “Want to go again?”

A soft laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

“You didn’t say no.” He kissed her again. 

A groan. “I have to get up.”

“You have time.” Another kiss. 

She pressed herself back against his lap. “I really don’t.”

He grinned. “Seems like you do.” 

Their sex was attentive and unhurried, lazy as morning sex usually was. He pressed soft, open-mouth kisses to her skin and held her close, and when she came it was with a soft gasp into his skin, and he followed shortly after, quiet and gentle. He didn’t want to leave her. 

“Varian.” His name was tainted with reluctance. “I do have to get ready.”

“Stay with me.” The words were immediate and automatic, he couldn’t stop them if he tried. _Please understand what I’m trying to say._

She kissed him then, and he thought she did. 

* * *

“I think he loved you, you know. I really think he did.”

Shaw didn’t know why he said it. Why he felt the need to comfort Valeera Sanguinar. 

Maybe he just couldn’t watch her carry on like this, pretending everything was fine while inside she was shattered. 

He wouldn’t pretend to understand the relationship between his king ﹣ his former king now ﹣ and Valeera. But it was, undoubtedly, a relationship, with strong feelings on both sides. He’d refused to see it for a long time, and denied it for even longer. He hadn’t been able to believe it.

_Varian was screaming. He hadn’t stopped screaming since this morning, when Anduin had spoken to him about the Black Prince, and the relationship they had. Once he calmed, his king would no doubt ask Shaw if he’d known, and Shaw would have a decision to make._

_“Varian!”_

_He’d fetched Valeera. The moment she returned he’d sent for her. He didn’t know what to do, and at the very least, she would keep the king calm. Varian could not even swear in front of a woman, much less react with his token violence._

_“Varian.” She’d taken charge immediately, her face very close to his. “Hey,” she said, her tone less sharp. “Stay with me.” Varian focused on her as he hadn’t been able to do with the spymaster, breathing hard through flared nostrils._

_Shaw’s breath caught. There was no desperation in the words, no pleading. No pain._

_“Stay with me,” Valeera repeated, her voice low. “Don’t get lost in your head.”_

_The words had the opposite effect of what Shaw had expected. The one they should have had, he thought, in another life. An easier life._

_Varian’s fist fell to his side, the cracked wall behind him loud and ugly. It unclenched. Twitched, as though he would reach for her, though ultimately he didn’t._

_And Valeera spoke to him calmly, and when he replied it wasn’t with the fury, with the venom he had used on Shaw. He spoke to her like he’d once spoken to Queen Tiffin, all those years ago._

_He loves her, Shaw thought. How could he have never believed that? Observing the two of them, aware of his presence but ignoring it, it was obvious. Varian loved her._

He’d struggled with the idea of delivering Varian’s letter. He didn’t owe Valeera Sanguinar anything. In the end, his own conscience forced his hand. He thought, if Edwin had written him a letter, he’d want someone to be sure it found its way to him. 

He left her there in the kitchen, with her nearly empty wine bottle and Varian’s letter. “Take a few days off, Valeera,” he said kindly. “You need it.” He strode out of the kitchen the way he’d come, quietly shutting the door behind him. 

After several moments he heard the crinkling of parchment. And a few minutes after that, the long, low, shuddering sobs of fresh grief. 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was also heavily inspired by [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jewmMXrSM7M) I made literally twelve years ago, back when I edited music videos. (Don't judge the splicing, I was just learning.) If you click, it's very soft in the beginning. The song is Stay, by Shakespear's Sister, and the part I especially thought of, for the end scene (which is lifted from and seen through a different POV in another fic of mine, Eat Pray Stab), is the second half of the video, which is easier to hear. Volume up if you click.


End file.
